So Be It
by SophiaAnne
Summary: Happy Harry is here again, live and streaming right into where you live. Are you ready for me?” Will Bella Swan find out who's behind the sexy voice that has her all hot and bothered? BxE - AU/AH, OOC, Lemons and Language. Now revised and expanded.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This story was originally written as a crossover for the Steamy Movie Crossover Contest, mixing the '90s Christian Slater flick, Pump Up the Volume, with the lovely Twilight pair of Edward and Bella.

No copyright infringement is intended to Twilight, Pump Up the Volume, or All the King's Men, though I'm sure Robert Penn Warren would probably roll in his grave at my appropriation.

Songs referenced and/or quoted in this fic are as follows:

Everybody Knows – Leonard Cohen

Mommie's Little Monster – Social Distortion

I'm Like Yeah, She's All No – The Mr T. Experience

Devil Inside – INXS

The Show Must Go On - Queen

Essence – Lucinda Williams

**So Be It**

Chapter 1

_First day of school and there's finally fresh meat in Forks. After 2 years, I, Bella Swan, am no longer the new girl._

"What ya writing?"

I jumped at the voice at my elbow and slammed the cover shut.

"Nothing, Alice. Stuff."

My best friend shrugged and tossed her bag onto the floor next to the lunch table as she settled in to pick at her wilted salad.

"You're always writing stuff. Ugh, this is so gross. I wish they let us leave campus for lunch." She poked the limp lettuce again before pushing the bowl away and returning her focus to me.

"What are you looking at?" She raised an eyebrow in warning. "And don't say nothing!"

I sighed and absently traced the curve of the apple in front of me before nodding to the far table. "New boy."

"Ohhh, I hadn't seen him yet, but that's all anyone's been talking about." Alice studied him intently. "Kind of cute. But crazy shy. Apparently Lauren tried to talk to him in gym, and he just walked right by like he didn't even see her."

Ignoring Lauren, wannabe Mean Girl? I liked the guy already. "Maybe he just doesn't like everyone staring at him like a monkey in the zoo," I muttered.

Alice laughed. "Issues much, Bells? You've lived here for ages now, no one stares at you anymore." She paused for a minute, then snickered as she glanced over at the table of jocks. "Well, except for Newton, but that's cause he wants to make babies with you."

"Ewww, Alice, gross." I tossed my bottle cap at her and stood up. "Don't you have a closet to be making out in or something?"

She grabbed her salad remains and stood as well. "Yep. Jasper's securing the janitor's closet in the English building for us. Much better than the science building - all those chemicals kind of kill the mood."

"TMI, Alice, TMI." I cast one more glance at the table in the corner where the new guy, Edward Cullen, son of the new Chief of Staff at Forks General Hospital and late of Chicago, Illinois, sat hunched over. Thanks to Forks own no-tech version of Gossip Girl, i.e. Jessica Stanley and her mother, everyone already knew about the Cullens.

That Dr. Cullen was a brilliant surgeon and near saint who'd given up a mega-lucrative position to come work at a rural hospital. And that he also could apparently give McDreamy a run for his money. I'd heard that one whispered with a giggle between Jess's mom and Mrs. Crowley while I was waiting in the checkout line at the grocery store last week. Freaking weird.

That Mrs. Cullen spent wads of cash remodeling some old house in the middle of the woods outside of town, and had apparently been some kind of society muckity-muck back in the Windy City. Jessica had started some crazy rumor that she was going to form a Garden Club and invite everyone to high tea, or maybe host a debutante ball. Whatever. Jess had probably just ODed on another of her OC marathons. I knew zip about high society, but that wasn't in the cards for Forks. We had a diner, a fast food joint, and the Moose Lodge Friday Night Fish Fries as options for dining out. To say we lacked class was an understatement.

And last but not least, their golden child, Edward. At least, the guess was he was golden. Who wouldn't be with parents like those? But no real dirt on him - just the basics. He was the newest enrolled senior at Forks Highs. He drove a silver Volvo. He'd gone to private school in Chicago. He was either mute or a stuck up snob who thought he was better than the rest of us. Hell, who knew, he might even be right.

His shock of coppery hair fell down over his forehead, blocking his face as he stared at his plate, pushing around the meatloaf surprise that he didn't know enough yet not to get. I thought for a moment about walking over and saying hi, but then again, I'd been overwhelmed by the flood of people doing just that when I'd first moved here. Everybody and their fucking brother coming up and talking to me like they knew me already.

So I turned and walked away, headed to my favorite back corner in the library to hole up, read, and wait for the bell.

-_-

_Is senior year some kind of sadistic black hole of time that lasts forever? How can it only be October? And what bastard made it some rite of passage that you have to have a homecoming dance? Isn't homecoming for, like, the old folks to come back and cheer and relive their glory days? Why the hell should we celebrate it? We're not coming home, we're already fucking trapped here._

I underlined trapped a couple of times and growled as the tip of my perfectly sharpened pencil broke. Mondays sucked.

"Bella, come here, you've got to listen to this!" Alice squealed loudly as she waved an earbud at me from her seat on Jasper's lap on the other side of the quad. I sighed and closed my journal, scowling at the bright banner fluttering over my head announcing the upcoming rah rah festivities. I picked my way carefully under the shelter of the gym overhang to meet them. There'd been an icy rain mix for a week now, and today was the first day the temperatures had spiked above freezing. Practically a balmy 43.

I hated Forks.

I walked past Edward "I Talk To No One" Cullen, who was leaning against the wall, deep in a book. Two months in, and he remained the school's resident mystery, keeping to himself, mumbling an answer in class only when forced to, and jetting off in that shiny, slick car of his as soon as the last bell sounded.

Unfortunately, I'd always been a sucker for a good mystery.

I tried to be sneaky with checking him out when I walked by his spot, but I couldn't help myself. There was something mighty sexy about a guy reading a book. What? I was a bibliophile. With a tiny, totally secret crush on Mr. Mysterious over there. Add those semi-nerdy glasses that slipped down and showed off gorgeous green eyes as he stared at the text intently, and those perfect long fingers that oh so gently flipped that page and-

I tripped and almost wiped out on the ice puddle that still remained in the shadows, but managed to grab a pole and avoid total embarrassment. I righted myself, glanced around to see if anyone had noticed, then carefully watched my feet as I headed towards Alice, who was snickering.

Damn.

"Shut up," I said as I grabbed the earbud. "It's your fault I almost killed myself."

"Whatever, Bella. Check this out."

I slid the earbud in place and waited as she hit play.

"_Everybody knows . . ."_

The closing lines of the musical refrain crooned and then faded away as a voice started to speak.

"_Evening, ladies and gents of Forks, Washington. Welcome back to the most depressing fucking town in America. That's right, beautifuls, Happy Harry Hard-On is here again, live and streaming right into where you live. Are you ready for me?"_

My eyes widened. What the hell was this?

"_So they say Forks is the wettest fucking place in the good old US of A. To which I say, amen. Who doesn't like it all wet and dripping? Though me, I prefer it when it's hot, too. Soaking sweet liquid fire that makes you just want to drown in it. You know what I'm talking about. Just fucking plunge all the way in, lick it up, savor it, let it surround you."_

The disembodied voice somehow managed to make every crude thing he uttered sound like the sexiest fucking thing on earth. He made a noise somewhere between a growl and a sigh and I pulled my jacket closer around me, suddenly aware that my nipples had just decided to say hello to the whole damn quad.

"_Oh no, here we go again. Can't talk about the wet stuff without the monster rearing its ugly head. Insatiable."_

There was another low moan and then the very distinctive sound of flesh sliding on hard flesh, firmly and rapidly. I gulped and knew I was blushing.

"Are you to the part where he spanks the monkey?" Alice asked excitedly. "Can you believe this?"

I waved a hand to quiet her, embarrassed, but determined to hear. He was breathing heavier now, rough and low, and the sounds of his self-use were more pronounced.

"_Mmmm, yeah, guess wet Forks is going to keep me hard. All. The. Time. Oh, fuck, oh yeah, yeah . . ."_

The voice panted and then there was a strangled groan and a moment of silence before he spoke again, his voice husky and drowsy. Guh. It was all I could do to keep from panting myself.

"_Beautifuls, that was a big one. _ _The monster's asleep for now, and so must I. It's quitting time, dear listeners. So keep your enemies close and your loved ones closer, cause they're the ones that'll really fuck you over. Cause that's the way life is. So be it."_

"Isn't that like, the dirtiest thing, ever," Alice bounced on her heels, taking the headphones I handed back. She giggled. "I know you think so, you're blushing, isn't she, Jasper?"

He took the iPod and tucked it in his jacket, pulling Alice back down on his lap. "You kind of are, Bella."

"I'm always blushing, it's my default," I shot back, ignoring their snickers. "Where the hell did you find that?"

Jasper shrugged. "New site popped up a few weeks ago with this streaming podcast - one of the guys from the baseball team sent it to me. There's no archive - I just ripped that one last night when it was live. It's got to be someone here in Forks, though, he talks shit about the school and town all the time." He glanced around the quad at the little bunches of students hanging out and gossiping, waiting for the first bell to sound. "Hell, it could even be me."

"Oh, that'd be so hot, babe," Alice cooed. She leaned in and whispered something in his ear and he attacked her lips in response.

I fought to suppress the gag from seeing yet another make out session from those two and looked away. They'd come up for air sometime. I glanced around, wondering who it could really be. My eyes drifted back towards the walkway I'd slipped on and was surprised to see Edward Cullen staring in our direction. Or maybe it'd been my imagination. He slid his glasses firmly up and shifted positions, flipping a page and returning to his book.

The lovebirds had finally been defeated in their face sucking quest by the need for oxygen, so I turned back, determined to find out more.

"What's the site?" I asked nonchalantly. Jasper flipped his iPod out and scrolled back to the track, showing me the track listing. . I squinted at it.

"Sobe? Like those drinks with the lizard on them? The lizard drink? What's fks? The lizard drink fucks?" I puzzled.

Alice howled and shook her head. "It's the way he signs off, so be it. So be it, Forks."

"Ohh. Weird. So when does it stream?"

Jasper shrugged. "About ten, every night. Give or take. Sometimes it's on for a few minutes, sometimes hours."

"And does he do . . ." I trailed off, realizing I was blushing again.

Jasper nodded. "Oh yeah. Seriously, you could probably find the guy by checking for hairy palms - dude whacks it four or five times a night it sounds like."

The bell rang, signaling the start of first period, and everyone started to scatter. After promising Alice I'd meet her at lunch, I gathered my books and journal, trying to watch my footing more closely as I hurried back across the quad and towards my first class.

The room was already starting to fill up by the time I arrived, and I rushed to grab my usual seat. Second aisle from the far wall, five seats back. The one with the perfect line of sight for my morning eye candy.

_EC__ update: Wearing a gray long sleeved t-shirt and faded blue jeans, small worn spot in left knee. Same green bookbag. New paperback. He appears to have finished previous book. Maybe approach for recommendation as conversation starter?_

I frowned at the lined page.

_No, too obvious that have been __stalking__ watching._

I bit my pencil and craned my neck, trying to see the title on the paperback tucked under Edward's arm. He placed his books too close to the edge of his desk while sliding into his seat and knocked them off.

_Oh baby, bend over and get that. _

I almost bit through my eraser as he did exactly that, retrieving the items while giving me an excellent look at his well-formed ass in those faded jeans before sliding quietly into his seat and pulling out his new book, staring at the pages and blocking out the rest of the room.

Swoon. I grabbed the remainder of my mangled pencil and returned to my journal.

_I can admit it. I'm a sick pup. Why do I only lust for the unattainable ones? Is that the lure? Does no one else see how gorgeous he is? Granted, I'm not sure half the stupid chicks in this burg recognize what a fantastic piece of man meat they have among them, what with him hiding behind those glasses and lurking alone in the library all the time. But still, who couldn't see that hotness? _

I glanced up from my journal to hear Ms. Emerson call the class to order and drone something about the next unit on Shakespeare's sonnets. How do I compare thee to a summer's day, blah, blah. Read them all ages ago. Just as well, it gave me more time for Edward watching.

He rolled his eyes slightly at the announcement too, silently drumming his fingers on the desktop in front of him. I loved watching his hands, long and agile, like they'd be so talented and could just, just . . .

"plunge all the way in-"

I sat straight up with a gasp, the voice from the podcast ringing in my ears like a fucking auditory hallucination as I glanced around the classroom, trying to tune back in to what was going on.

"So, Mr. Cullen, you were saying that you believe the metaphor that Shakespeare is using here is one of embracing life, of, how did you phrase it, plunging in and seizing the moment?"

I waited with baited breath to hear his response. He shrugged and nodded, to Ms. Emerson's satisfaction. I ground my teeth in frustration.

_Jeez. Get a life and stop conflating your inner fantasies, Bella. _

The bell rang and I grabbed my books, tucking my journal into my bag as I dragged myself to the next class.

-_-

I was still thinking about that damn podcast two days later as I crumpled my brown bag of leftovers and tossed it on my way out of the lunchroom. Alice had an earlier than usual rendezvous planned with Jasper – something about a key to the equipment closet, so I was soloing it today.

It was hard not to think about it. Everyone in the school was talking about Happy Harry lately. He'd talked shit about the football team last night, segued into a rant on the sorry state of life generally, then managed to blow his wad while making these guttural moans and groans that had me literally squirming in my desk chair as I sat glued in front of my computer, earbuds jacked tightly. Not exactly the kind of thing I wanted dear old dad listening in on.

But the thing I'd been mulling all day was the invitation he'd made before he signed off last night.

"_Harry's got a proposition for you, my horny little listeners. And you know when Harry talks, you're going to come for me, aren't you, beautifuls?_

_Yes, that's right, my dears, Harry's lonely here in cyberspace. I give and give and give, and now I want something back. _

_You. Oh yes, you, and you're going to give it to me, aren't you? Here's what I want. _

_Something real. I want to know what you're thinking. What's that deep, dirty secret that's festering inside? What's that one thing that crawls around in your belly, squirming and dying to see the light of day? That kink you think no one gets, that question that's always been unanswered._

_Send them to me. Maybe I'll read them. Maybe I won't. But I want them. So don't keep Harry waiting."_

And damn it, I hadn't been able to think about anything since then. Something about the idea of him reading my words, of finally sharing something I'd kept crammed in this journal I'd been scribbling in for years now, was tantalizing. Even if he was an Internet perv.

I wandered into the deserted library, making my ritual stop by the new books rack to see if different selections had magically appeared from the editions that had been gathering dust on the shelf since last May. A well-stocked library was obviously not a Forks School Board priority.

I picked up a tome that was clearly riding the teen vampire chick lit wave to flip through for the tenth time, when the rush of air from the big old wooden doors swooshing open behind me told me I wasn't alone. I waited a moment, then turned to glance towards the opposite back corner from where I always staked my seat.

His corner. My silent lunch time companion. Hee. Maybe he was stalking me.

I wished.

But the seat was empty.

I tossed the book on the rack and turned back to the front of the library, surprised to see him standing silently before the empty librarian's desk, a book lying on the circulation counter in front of him. He drummed his fingers, glancing around impatiently.

Miss Hammond, the librarian, was probably up in the attendance office chewing the fat, as she liked to call it, with Mrs. Blanchard, the secretary. She wouldn't be back for a while.

It took a split second, but the next thing I knew, I had ducked through the side entrance and was perched behind the circulation desk, ready to serve. Yours truly was a library aide junior year, after all. And Miss Hammond would totally want me to help out a patron in need.

"Hi, Edward," I opened, smiling as I waited for him to look somewhere beside the worn down wood of the desk. "Can I help you?"

He glanced up, just a peek, and looked mildly perplexed that I was not a seventy year old with bluish hair and red cat-eye glasses. He nodded and slid the book across the desk.

"I need to turn this in," he mumbled.

I glanced at the title. "Hmm, _All the King's Men_. I haven't read this, any good?"

He nodded. "It's okay."

No one could accuse him of having a way with words. Especially since this was still the longest conversation we'd had to date. I took the book and flipped it open, glancing at the stamp inside. Overdue. "Uh-oh, who'd have guessed about you?"

His head shot up, meeting my eyes for the first time. "What?"

Damn, he had pretty eyes. I wished, not for the first time, that he'd take off those glasses.

"You're one of those naughty patrons who doesn't bring back books on time. You know what we have to do to those, don't you?" I asked, leaning over the counter towards him, trying not to noticeably sniff him. He smelled good, some kind of musky, woodsy smell mixed with the sharp bite of wintergreen.

He leaned back, looking everywhere but at me as he ran his fingers distractedly through his hair. "Um, no."

"Punish them," I replied in as sultry a tone as I could manage, almost cracking up at the look of panic that crossed his face. What did he think the penalty for late library books was, a flogging? I held out my hand, palm up, and winked at him. "That'll be fifty cents."

He exhaled, digging in his pocket and dumping change and a clear empty cellophane candy wrapper on the counter before turning on his heel and vanishing out of the library.

"Wow, strange does not even begin to describe him." I shook my head. "Maybe that much pretty makes you crazy." I checked the book in, tossed the coins in the overdue drawer, then checked the book back out in my name. If Edward Cullen couldn't talk to me, maybe I could learn a little more about him through his choice of reading material.

I settled back in my corner and pulled out my worn journal. If my eye candy was gone, I might as well start writing.

-_-

"_Hello beautifuls. Did you miss me, all you people out there, sitting naked in your chairs?"_

I leaned back in my own chair, grinning as I glanced down at my flannel pjs. Hardly. But if he kept talking like that, I might be. That voice could talk a nun out of her habit. And I wasn't exactly a nun, though I'd started to feel like it since I'd moved to Forks. Way too small of a gene pool and all the good ones got snagged back in middle school.

So it was just me and my new favorite Internet perv. I was worse than a thirteen year old boy who just discovered his dad's Playboy stash - I was glued to my laptop waiting to hear him every night.

Maybe Alice was right. Maybe I needed to just give in, screw Mike, and put an end to the Sahara that was my sex life. As in total drought. I frowned at the thought of Mike's saliva. Nope. Not that desperate yet.

"_It's me again, sneaking into your room, here to defile and defame you. That's right, Happy Harry's back, hard as ever. It's going to be one of those nights. 'Cause it's Friday and I'm as horny as a barn full of owls. _

_Now some of you, you're out with that person that's got you all hot and bothered, making out in the back seat of your daddy's Caddy, seeing just how much further you can go this time, up that shirt, grab a little tit, or down inside those little panties, feeling that warm wet pussy just trying to suck you in. Mmm, yeah, makes me even harder just thinking about it. Get a little for me, boys, 'cause I'm here all alone in the dark, just me with my cold one, and my sparks in the dark candy."_

I listened as he paused, taking a drink and sighing.

"_I take that back. I'm not all alone tonight. Ask and you shall receive, and beautifuls, based on the emails I've gotten in the last few days, you are some sick motherfucks."_

He laughed softly.

"_But I promised to share, didn't I? So get ready, your randy bastards, 'cause this one is for all us lonely fucks out there tonight."_

He paused and I realized I was holding my breath until he began to speak my words.

"_Dead air._

_I wait. Empty. _

_Until I can turn you on. _

_You don't ask. You just enter. _

_Your tongue is loaded with longing._

_Loathing._

_Lust. _

_It drips, slithers, crawls its way through the wires and waves to where I'm waiting._

_For you. _

_My brain crackles. My body throbs. It knows what it needs. What it wants. _

_So do it. Make it loud. Fill me up._

_Tease me. Touch me. Taste me. Take me._

_Talk hard to me."_

He gave a small hum of appreciation as he finished my last line. "_Now that one. That one I like. Talk hard to me. Mmm, that's good."_

I finally remembered to start breathing again. Fuck, but listening to him read that was such a turn-on. I wished that he'd do it again.

"_Signs herself Poetry Lady. Pretty title for such a dirty girl. And I do love me a dirty girl._

_But nothing but an email, unlike some of you exhibitionists out there wanting Harry to give you a call. Or watch your webcam. Wish you'd left me more, Poetry Lady. I know my beautiful listeners are gonna want to hear from you again. I know I do. _

_Well, the chase just makes it sweeter. This one's for you, sweetheart. 'Cause this is how it always goes. I'm All Yeah and She's All No, a little MTX to rock your Friday night. Enjoy the one you're with tonight, 'cause they'll screw you over come the harsh light of day."_

-_-

_Captured._

I frowned and scratched it out.

_Caught._

Poetry Lady, my ass. I sucked at this.

I chewed on the end of my pen, searching for the right word when Alice appeared by my side.

"Incoming at twelve o'clock, Bella."

I glanced up. "Huh? Did Jasper make you marathon the military weekend on the History Channel again?"

She rolled her eyes and gestured to the guy now standing in front of me. Fuck. Maybe trapped was the word I'd been looking for after all.

I attempted a polite, yet disinterested smile. "Hi, Mike."

"Hey Bells, you're looking good today."

He leaned against my locker, attempting what he apparently thought was a subtle bicep flex. Alice giggled beside me and I elbowed her.

"Uh, thanks." I glanced at my watch. "Wow, look at the time, I've got to run."

He looked confused. "But class doesn't start for another ten minutes."

"Yeah, but I like to get there early." I shut my locker door and started to edge away, clutching Alice's sleeve to keep her from scampering off. I shot her the clear "if you leave me I will be forced to hunt you down and kill you look" and she shrugged and fell in step beside me.

"Oh, well, I can walk you," Mike grinned, flanking my other side. "Want me to carry your books?"

"That's okay, I think I've got it." I replied, gesturing to the one notebook in my hands.

"So, did you know that Friday night's the big game and the homecoming dance?"

"You don't say," I muttered, staring at the posters that had been plastered on the walls of the hallway for weeks announcing that fact. "Well, good luck with that."

"Oh yeah, we're going to kick some Falcon ass," he responded with enthusiasm.

"Awesome," I deadpanned, spying an escape.

"So Bella, I was wondering-"

"Oh wow, there's the library, there's a book I have to get this morning before class like right now, talk to you later, 'kay, bye," I machine gunned out, and ducked past Mike into the library, leaving one gaping quarterback and a best friend who looked as though she were about to explode in laughter in my wake.

Five minutes and one tardy bell later, I sneaked out of the library and down the hall to English. Guess I'd be playing the fun game of dodge the Mike all week. Fucking Mondays.

I slid into my seat, trying to look innocent as I mouthed a sorry at Ms. Emerson, who frowned, but continued on with her speech.

"Your next assignment will require you to incorporate cooperative learning skills, an important part of our curriculum. I have paired you up, and each partner will have to report on the effectiveness of the other at the conclusion of the project to ensure you each complete an appropriate share of work. This project will require time outside of class, but I know you'll be willing to give the extra effort to make this a success. "

Emerson gave us all her best sincere and hopeful look as she started handing out the packets, like she was waiting for us all to stand up and give a fucking woo-hoo at the prospect of a group project.

I doodled a frowny face in the corner of my journal as she began rattling off names, half tuned in as I flipped though the packet. Please don't let her stick me with Lauren again. I might have to gouge my eyes out. Or hers. Dad probably wouldn't like either.

"Edward Cullen, you will be paired with Isabella Swan."

I think I love Ms. Emerson.

"You will have five minutes at the end of class to talk with your partners and make initial plans."

I didn't have a fucking clue what Emerson talked about the rest of the period, as I was counting down the minutes until she let us chat with our partners. When she finally wrapped things up, I waited a half second to see if he would come back to my desk.

Not surprisingly, he stayed where he was, half hunched, glancing back nervously at me. My move, I guess.

I sauntered towards his desk, sliding into the vacant seat in front of him. He glanced up, still silent.

"So we meet again," I opened. "Still being naughty?"

His eyes widened. "What?"

"The library? Last week? Overdue book?" He almost looked liked he was about to hyperventilate, so I shrugged and flipped open the packet, mumbling, "Relax, Edward, just kidding."

"Oh, right. No, nothing overdue," he replied softly.

Great, now he thought I was the library nazi. We sat in silence for another minute, both staring at his desk and the packets of information, until he fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a couple of those mint lifesavers that had the sparkly center, ripping the cellophane open and crunching on one. He wordlessly offered me the other and I took it for what it obviously was. A peace offering. Accepted.

I flipped through the packet and scanned the requirements. "Looks like we're going to need to do some research, pull some of the sonnets she's listed here, and maybe a few others to analyze. What's a good time for you this week?"

He shrugged. "Whenever."

"After school on Wednesday, okay?" I asked.

"Sure," he replied.

Time to get bold, Bella. "So, could we meet at your house?"

He looked like he was going to refuse, then nodded. "Sure."

"Great, I'll be there at 4:00."

The bell rang and he bolted, leaving me clutching the mint and grinning. I had a date with Edward Cullen.

-_-

"_It's a dirty night out there tonight, boys and girls. Out there, in here, everywhere. You ever feel like it's just all fucked up? Everything. The economy, the environment, the government, the schools. Maybe so fucked up it can't ever be fixed. _

_But the irony is, that's not what they want us to believe, is it? I was walking the hallways today and saw that big beautiful poster outside the guidance office. You know the one. What you can believe, you can achieve."_

He laughed bitterly.

"_Load of shit, but that's what they got to tell themselves, I guess. 'Cause we're the fucking dream. The next generation. They're pinning their hopes on us. Well I say, fuck'em. We got better things to do, right?_

_So let's give it up for a little Social D. That's right, Mommy's Little Monster – theme song for our parent's worst nightmares."_

I laid on my bed, listening for a few seconds before I got up and paced back over to my computer and pulled up my email. I hesitated for a second, then typed in his address and composed the message.

_Bad day, Harry?_

I waited for a minute, jumping a little as the ping signaled a reply over the music.

_You gonna make it better, Poetry Lady?_

I smiled a little.

_Maybe in your dreams. Or mine._

I hit send and within seconds, there was a reply.

_I knew you were a cocktease. How about a number? Name? Hand job?_

I smirked.

_You wish. And you're the cocktease. Aren't you going to talk hard to me tonight, baby? I'm waiting._

The song was winding down and there was a moment of silence, before his voice filled my ears again, huskier than before.

"_Sometimes you just meet your match, beautifuls. I think I just found mine tonight. And the beast is back and getting bigger than ever. Fucking hard as nails. I can feel it coming - this one's going to be a gusher. Take cover out there, Forks."_

I bit my lip and closed my eyes, letting my own hands wander as I listened.

"_Oh yeah, got to take care of this or I'm going to explode. Rough and hard, just the way the monster wants it. Oh, yeah, yeah . . ."_

He was breathing harder now and I kept my eyes closed, listening to the noises he made, the sighs and groans and sound of his hand gripping himself as my own slid under the waist of my pajamas and into my dripping wet panties, finding a rhythm that matched his own harsh breaths instinctively.

"_Oh. Fuck. Yeah."_

He gave one final gasp and I groaned in stereo as my whole body shuddered against my fingers.

Oh fuck yeah, indeed. Damn.

"_Well, I'm spent. Whipped. Be sure to try that at home, kiddos. One last song dedicated to my new muse. Devil Inside. INXS. So be it."_

I laughed as he cued up the music and leaned back in my chair, still feeling boneless. The ping of the email brought me straight back up in the chair.

_Hard enough for you?_

I bit my lip, then typed something quickly. I hit reply and shut off the computer before I was tempted to do something stupid. Like send him my number. Or tell him where I lived.

_Maybe. Can't chat. Hands otherwise occupied. ;) Sweet dreams, Harry._


	2. Chapter 2

**So Be It**

Chapter 2

"Hey Jasper, can I, uh, ask you a question?" I leaned against the wall next to him as we waited on Alice to finish a test after school the next day.

"Sure, Bella, what's on your mind?"

"You're good with techie stuff, right?"

He shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Why? Your computer fritzing again?"

I shook my head. "No. I was kind of wondering about some Internet stuff. Like how you find out who owns a website."

Jasper took one look at my red face and burst out laughing. "You want to find out who Hard Harry is, don't you?" He leaned closer and shook his head. "You're not the first, Bella. Whoever the guy is, he's good, totally covered his tracks. Eric Yorkie's been trying for a couple of weeks, it's like a personal challenge, and he hasn't been able to figure it out. If that nerd can't, there's no way I can."

"Oh," I managed, disappointed.

Jasper finally managed to stop chortling and slung an arm around me. "Feeling lonely, Bells? Alice tells me Mike's been trying to corner you to ask you to the dance. He's not that bad."

I glared. "Yeah, I don't think so. I love you and Alice for trying to make sure I'm happy, but Mike Newton's not that guy. I don't know if that guy is even here in Forks, you know?"

I paused for a minute, thinking about the way Edward had looked in his corner of the library at lunch, entranced in his latest book, his face relaxed and almost happy compared to the usual tense expression he wore in class. There'd been a moment, right before the bell rang when we were both packing up, that he'd looked at me across the stacks, really looked at me. For a brief second I'd thought he was going to say something, but then he'd given a quick nod and bolted as always.

"Like, I see bits and pieces, but not the whole package I'm looking for? And I don't think I ready to settle for less right now," I finished up with a half-smile. "Everyone's not as lucky as you and Alice."

Alice bounced out of her class and joined us then, to my relief, and Jasper dropped the subject.

But I didn't stop thinking about it. Maybe Eric Yorkie couldn't figure out how to trace Harry in cyberspace, but there had to be some clues out there. I needed to know who this guy was.

-_-

I flipped open my journal, and started a list as I watched the clock inch closer to ten that night.

_Probably a Forks student – mentioned guidance office poster._

I nibbled on my pencil. Well, that didn't prove anything for sure, he could be a parent or someone who worked at the school. I cringed. That could mean I might have cybersexed it up with Fred, the ninety year old janitor.

Ugh. Had to be a student. I refused to contemplate other alternatives.

_Good with computers. Totally stumped Yorkie._

_Chronic masturbator._

I paused, then erased the last one. Him and every other teenage boy at Forks High. Not a clue._  
_

What else? Music. Kind of eclectic, seemed to like SoCal punk. I added a list to the side of the songs he'd played that I remembered.

There had to be something else. I tapped the pencil impatiently. The candy – he mentioned liking sparks in the dark candy. What the hell was that? I added it to the list, then glanced at the clock. Time to listen.

"I'm going to figure you out, Harry."

I plugged in my headset and hit my favorite bookmark.

"_Let's see what we've got in the goodie box tonight, shall we? This one looks interesting. Subject is, You Suck, Harry. _

_Well, I usually prefer to lick and nibble, but I will suck if you ask nicely."_

He snickered.

"_Oh, got to love the fan mail. Let's see if this qualifies._

_Dear Harry,_

_Your show is stupid and so are you. You think you're better than everyone, but you won't even tell people who you are. You're just some lonely pathetic pizza faced freshman fuck who can't get a date and sits in his parents basement jacking off._

_Forks High Spartans rule! We kick ass!_

_And it's signed M._

_Clever pseudonym, M. Very creative. Well, M has shown us that what goes around comes around. I speak of the banality of our ball team and M strikes back with his assessment of my inferiority. That I'm lonely and pathetic and can't get a date._

He paused for a long moment and then sighed into the mike. 

"_Reminds me of something I read that stuck with me. The world's all one piece, just an enormous spider web. You touch it, just a little, and it's gonna vibrate out to that spider. And that spider's going to wake up and find you and bite your ass with it's poison." _

Spider webs. Touching spider webs. Why did that sound familiar?

"_Guess I woke up the spider, didn't I? I talk shit about the manly Spartan quest to wrestle the Falcons into submission and it comes back at me. _

_You got me, M. I am, in fact, a lonely, pathetic, pizza faced freshman fuck who can't get a date, so I sit in my parents' basement jacking off." _

He laughed.

"_Well, at least you got the jacking off part right. They don't just call me Happy Harry Hard-on for shits and giggles. So go have fun playing grab ass with your team on Friday night, cause I'll still be here, making the world safe for democracy one cockstand at a time._

_Spartans of Forks, I'm gonna spin a little Freddy Mercury just for you tonight. The Show Must Go On, boys."_

Spider webs. Where did I read that. I grabbed my bookbag and dug through it, dumping the contents on my bed. Pens, pencils, an eraser, notebooks, a mint, my lit textbook, and a novel.

_All the King's Men._

Fuck me.

I grabbed it up and flipped to the bookmark I'd stuck in the last chapter I'd finished, searching though the pages. And there it was.

"_Cass Mastern lived for a few years and in that time he learned that the world is all of one piece. He learned that the world is like an enormous spider web and if you touch it, however lightly, at any point, the vibration ripples to the remotest perimeter and the drowsy spider feels the tingle and is drowsy no more but springs out to fling the gossamer coils about you who have touched the web and then inject the black, numbing poison under your hide._"

I dropped the book and rocked back on my heels. Could it be? I glanced back at the bed and slowly picked up the mint laying there. The one that Edward had given me. White, with a sparkly green center. With a trembling hand I reached out and grabbed my cell phone, hitting the speed dial.

"Hey, Bella, what's up?" Alice chirped.

"Alice. What's a sparks in the dark candy?"

"Sparks in the dark? Hmm, hold on a sec." I heard her ask the question to Jasper. He must have snuck in her window again.

"It's those wintergreen Life Saver mints. Jasper says if you chew them up in the dark, you're supposed to be able to see sparks. Why?"

"No reason. Thanks, Alice." I shut the phone before she could ask more questions, and collapsed back on my bed. I knew who Harry was. And I had a study date with him tomorrow.

-_-

Jessica and her mom had gotten at least one thing right about the Cullens. Their house was fanfuckingtastic. Glass walls, natural wood – you didn't see that kind of Frank Lloyd Wright shit in Forks. I was almost embarrassed to park my rusting old Chevy truck in front of it.

But not enough to abandon my mission. I swallowed nervously and slid out of the seat, smoothing my hair as I rang the front door bell.

He opened it almost immediately, like he'd been waiting right inside.

"Bella, hi. Come on in." He stepped back and I entered, trying not to stare. Everything was pristine and white.

"Can I take your coat?" he asked politely, and I shrugged off my parka.

"Should I take off my shoes?" I asked, noticing that he was barefoot. Nice long feet too. I squelched those thoughts. Focus, Bella.

"If you don't mind. My mom's got a thing about the carpet."

"Sure." I slid off my trainers, glad I'd worn cute socks, and followed him as he led me into the kitchen.

"We can work in here." He indicated the table with books already spread out, complete with a plate of cookies and glasses of milk.

I raised an eyebrow and he ducked his head. "My mom made those . . . I told her not to, but-"

"That was really nice of her. They looks good." I grabbed a cookie and settled into the open seat, studying him through my lashes as I pulled out my books. He was more relaxed than I'd ever seen him, here on his home turf, but I still couldn't quite reconcile this tongue-tied guy with the voice that could get me soaking wet in a matter of minutes.

But it had to be him.

We started into the project, and I was surprised at how much research he'd done already, and how good it was. We fell into a quick rhythm, each writing an analysis, then swapping them back for each other's critique. After a couple of hours we were almost through with the assignment, and I knew I had to make a move if I was going to find some concrete evidence to prove my theory.

"This is a beautiful house, Edward. I heard your mom designed the renovation."

"She did. It's kind of her hobby," he replied quietly.

Damn. I could see him starting to withdraw again.

"That's cool. I love architecture. Could I get the fifty-cent tour?"

I waited for him to tell me I was a pushy bitch who needed to back off, but he shrugged and nodded as he shut his book, stretching his arms above his head and popping his back. I tried not to stare at the sliver of abs that peeked out of the bottom of his shirt, but then decided abs that pretty were meant for ogling. At least until he caught me staring. I blushed and looked away, grabbing another cookie as a distraction.

"Guess we're about done. I can show you around. My mom will be back soon too, she could probably tell you more," he said, standing up and ignoring my red face.

He patiently led me through room after room and I oohed and ahhed. It was pretty, but there was one room I was jonesing to see. Eddie's bedroom. Finally he led me down a short flight of stairs to a lower level, and through a door at the end of a hallway.

He gave a small smile as he turned the knob. "My room."

The Holy Grail. I resisted the urge to do a little victory dance as he opened the door and led me inside. The whole back wall was glass, with a French door inset leading out onto a patio on the rear of the house. Both side walls were lined with bookshelves crammed with books and music. A large bed with a dark comforter, a black couch towards the back near the wall of glass, and a desk cluttered with a laptop, more books, magazines, CDs and a couple of robots that I recognized as some of the Transformers Jasper still collected filled up the room.

I casually strolled over to one bookshelf packed with CDs and vinyl. "Wow, quite the collection. You must really like music."

He shrugged, suddenly shy again. I started to browse, looking for some of the albums on the list I'd complied, when a voice called from upstairs. "Edward, I'm home. Do you still have company?"

"Yes, Mom. Be right up."

I cursed under my breath, but followed him upstairs, smiling as we entered the kitchen. Edward's mom was sweet and seemed delighted that her recluse of a son was talking to another human, so I hung out for a few more minutes, asking her about the house and how they liked Forks before I left.

I still didn't have my smoking gun, but I thought I knew how to find it.

-_-

And that was how I ended up crouched in the bushes behind the swanky Cullen residence on Friday night.

Bella Swan. Full-on stalker. But I couldn't help it. I had to know.

And tonight had to be the night. My dad had second shift, so I could be out later than usual. Everyone else in town, including the Cullens, were at the homecoming game. Which I knew, because I gone to the first half just to be sure they'd be there. Once I'd spotted them at half time, I'd feigned a headache and said good-bye to Jasper and Alice, who'd looked mildly concerned then returned to gazing into each others' eyes.

So that brought me here. Mere feet away from Edward's back door. Which I was counting on being unlocked, since no one in Forks ever locked their back door. Of course the Cullens weren't from here, so maybe it wouldn't be open.

An owl hooted off in the forest and I jumped, almost dropping my flashlight. I chewed a nail nervously as I inched towards the door. What if they had an alarm system? That'd be awesome, my dad getting the call to come haul his daughter downtown on B&E charges.

I glanced at my watch. It was almost ten, and the game would be over soon, so it was now or never.

I tiptoed forward and gently tried the handle, grinning as it easily turned. I slipped it open, and slid through, quietly shutting it behind me as I fumbled for the switch on my flashlight. A click sounded on the other side of the room, which was suddenly flooded with light.

Oh shit. Edward was home.

His back was still to me as he threw his jacket on the bed, so I dropped to my knees and crawled quickly behind the couch, trying not to hyperventilate.

What was he doing home? And how the hell was I going to get out of here?

I waited, listening, as he moved around the room. It sounded like he was taking something off a shelf, then a beep as he powered on his laptop and collapsed into his desk chair.

I held my breath as the familiar opening strains of Leonard Cohen's deep voice started to play and then Edward began to talk.

"_It's Friday night, you beautiful bastards, do you know where your parents are? Hopefully far, far away. 'Cause Hard Harry's feeling it tonight."_

I gasped as a t-shirt came flying across the room and landed on the top of the couch above my head, before sliding off and onto the floor next to me. Was he stripping?

I slid to the edge of the couch and tried to peek around. He was sprawled back in his chair, long and lean and utterly lickable in just a pair of jeans, his legs spread and body boneless as he leaned back, hand absently running up and down his bare torso.

My mouth went dry and I ducked back.

"_I'm in the mood to make some noise. So what'll be? Any requests?"_

The knock on his bedroom door echoed like a shotgun and I heard Edward freeze mid-dialogue, then wild shuffling. I ducked to the edge of the couch again and watched as he frantically shut things down, throwing his mike into a drawer.

"Edward? Honey, we know you're in there. Your father and I need to talk to you, sweetheart. Just for a minute."

I could hear him cursing under his breath as he walked across the room and unlocked his bedroom door.

"Edward, your father and I just want to talk to you about tonight. We were concerned when you left the game so early, after you promised us you'd try to get involved in some of the school activities. I know the move was hard, but we just wish you'd try a little to get to know some of the people here."

A masculine voice joined in. "Edward, it's not good for you to be alone all the time. You're always holed up in here listening to music or whatever you do. Your mother and I thought you might adjust on your own, but perhaps its time you talked to a counselor."

Oh, hell, this was ridiculous. I reached up and ran my fingers through my hair and bit my lip, trying for the just fucked look, or at least the moderately felt up look, as I pulled my sweater down on one shoulder.

"Mom, Dad, I-"

One more deep breath and I popped up from behind the sofa.

"He didn't want to tell you he was coming to meet me." I didn't have to fake a blush as the elder Cullens stared at me like I was an alien creature they'd never expected to see in their son's room.

I walked forward, smoothing my hair and straightening my shirt as I stopped next to Edward. I stuck my hand out to his father. "Hi, I'm Bella Swan. And it's nice to see you again, Mrs. Cullen."

A smirk started to creep on Edward's dad's face as he glanced between the two of us, and his mother was practically beaming.

"Oh, no, it's so good to see you again, Bella, we didn't realize you were here," she replied. "It's early, we'll leave you two to hang out a while longer, won't we, Carlisle?"

The nudge, nudge, wink, wink between the two of them was not even subtle. I almost expected Carlisle to hand Edward a condom as they started to leave, giggling at each other.

"Oh, no, I really have to go too," I insisted. "I don't want to drive home too late." I turned and glanced at Edward for the first time, giving him a quick squeeze on his arm. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

I couldn't figure out the look on his face as he nodded, but for the first time I felt like he was really looking at me.

"Sure. Bye, Bella."

I followed his parents upstairs, and insisted I had to go despite their protests, even making a big show of heading down the driveway towards my truck parked near the road and firing it up while they watched and waved from the front porch. But I knew we weren't done tonight. I turned the truck around and pulled into a small turnoff to park before cutting the engine and starting the hike back to his door.

He was sitting there in the dark now, still, music playing softly as I knocked gently on the glass, waiting for him to grant me permission to enter this time.

He nodded an invitation as he flicked on the desk light, casting a pool of light around him as I leaned in the doorway.

"You came back."

It was almost a whisper, so low I had to lean forward to hear him. I didn't mind.

He was the same as when I'd left, shirtless, barefoot, just those jeans that hung on his hips and lured me to touch them, to see if they feel as soft as they looked, draped on him like that. And so exposed. I knew his secrets now, and he knew it as well. I took a breath to steady myself, then nodded.

"Yes."

"You know who I am."

It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyway. "Do you know who I am?"

I entered finally, shutting the door behind me as I walked closer, reciting the first lines of the poem I'd sent him late last night as I went.

_Ensnared._

_Enmeshed._

_Intertwined._

_You trapped me in your silken web._

_Now come into mine._

I stopped before him, waiting. It was his turn to talk to me now. And his harsh intake of breath as his eyes blazed with recognition told me he would.

"You're her. My Poetry Lady."

The song on his playlist wound down and another track took its place. Plaintive, something about longing, about waiting for your lover's essence.

And I knew that was why I'd come back. This shy, dirty talking, beautiful mass of contradictions was all the bits and pieces I'd been searching for in one messy package. Just like me.

I bit my lip and gathered my courage to meet him on equal footing. I crossed my arms and pulled my sweater over my head, taking the thin camisole beneath it as well, leaving me standing before him, topless, equally exposed and waiting.

I heard his response before I could see it while still tangled in the wool, his sharp intake of breath and low exhale.

When I dropped the sweater and opened my eyes he was there, on his feet, completely with me. I could see it in his eyes now, no more hiding behind glasses and books and microphones to disguise what he was. I could see him, the real Edward, the one who was scared and angry and compassionate and beautiful, and everything I've been searching for.

It was almost too easy to drown in those eyes. But we were still frozen in the same moment, stasis, not yet committed. It wasn't enough.

But I wasn't backing down. I started to move, letting the music carry me as he followed me with his eyes, still as I started to circle him. I wanted to touch him, and I let my fingers drift up, gentle and soft as the back of my fingers brushed his shoulder, tracing his bicep. He shuddered and I smiled.

He waited, letting me continue my journey, not ready for more yet as I stood behind him, drinking in the line of his neck, bent now, his shoulders back, as though he was struggling somehow for control. I watched his fingers clench into fists as I leaned in and brushed my lips against his shoulder blades, feather light, first the right, and then the left.

He was warm, smooth, and my whole body seemed to react, drawing me towards him, wanting to press my breasts against him. But it was his turn.

I finished my circuit and stood in front of him. There was need in his eyes, and I knew that I was reacting as well, flushed from the tips of my ears to my breasts, which felt heavy and aching just from the force of his gaze. I waited for him, and he didn't disappoint.

He reached for me and I expected him to touch my breasts, which were obviously ready and willing for some major gropage, but he took my hand instead, lifting it gently, palm up, our bodies swaying together to the music and each other as he placed his lips over the pulse point at my wrist, a soft caress.

Then his tongue traced the vein, sending a shock so unexpected I felt my knees start to buckle. It felt sinfully erotic, that tiniest of touches, and I realized the sound echoing in my ears was me moaning as he circled my waist to keep me upright and finally, finally, pulled us flush together, the soft skin of my belly now pressed against the harder flesh of his abdomen.

"Why did you come back?" he growled in my ear. "Why did you try to find me?"

"Because I love the way you talk, the way you think, the way you can make me feel. On and off the air. Because it's you, Edward."

Those must have been the magic words, because the next thing I knew he'd scooped me up and I was flat on my back in the middle of his bed, his leg firmly between mine as he ground against me, his lips working a path of liquid fire up my neck. I ran my fingers through his hair, tugging him up to meet my lips. I'd been fantasizing about that mouth for weeks now, and I wanted a taste.

The moment had been so heated that I'd expected a clash of tongue and teeth as we tried to devour each other. What I got was so much better.

He stopped, his hands moving to frame my face as he leaned over me, one thumb dragging gently over my bottom lip.

"You do this thing when you read, curled up in the corner of the library, where you bite your lip," he murmured, his voice low and smooth.

Something about that admission made my heart pound even harder, and it was already doing double time. Did that mean he'd noticed . . . me? Not the fearless girl who wrote sexy poems and sent them to some anonymous Internet dude, but the real Bella, the one who was kind of shy, and blushed too much, and worried about whether anyone could ever actually love her?

His thumb traced around my lips again, the roughness of his skin making me moan a little.

"It's so fucking sexy, watching you do that," he continued. "Makes me want to do this." He finally gave me what I'd been craving as he nibbled at my bottom lip, adding a slow swipe of his agile tongue.

I'd always credited myself with a pretty damn fine imagination, but the reality put fantasy Edward to shame. I felt my eyes roll back in my head as he slanted his mouth against mine, angling his head so that our lips and tongues could tangle and explore and just generally make me want to combust into about a million tiny pieces of Bella lust.

His hands wandered, one thumb drifting down to stroke the pulse point on my throat, while the other slid further and found the small of my back, gently guiding me against his lower half in a slow grind that made me whimper with abandon.

I didn't know if it had been minutes or hours when he finally dragged his lips from mine, leaving us both panting as he nuzzled his nose against my cheek, inhaling me. My whole body felt like it was on fire, so acutely aware of every inch of him pressed against me.

His cock was hard, pressed against my hip as he lay half over me, and I hooked a leg over his thigh, urging him closer, wanting him between my legs as I rubbed shamelessly against him. He rewarded me, his hand slowly sliding down my body to my waist, then sliding between us to cup between my legs, his fingers sliding firmly up the seam of my worn jeans, giving me just enough pressure to make me arch against him hard.

"Fuck, you're so wet I can feel it through your jeans." He breathed roughly for a moment, his nostrils flaring as he slowly and deliberately held my eyes, then dipped down and circled the tip of my achingly hard nipple with his long tongue.

I flat out moaned and threw my head back, the strokes of his tongue going straight to my clit before he stopped abruptly. I whined and whipped my head back up to glare at him and he grinned.

"I want you to watch me lick your pretty tits," he murmured.

Guh. It was possible I melted completely at that point, but at the least, speech was a total impossibility as I locked eyes and did as he requested. I was panting and rubbing against his thigh like a cat in heat as he took his time again, lavishing attention on first one and then the other of my breasts. And fuck me, as good as it felt, it was the look in his eyes, the complete intensity and heat that promised things I hadn't even dreamed of that had me on the brink of orgasm without him ever making a move into my panties.

He shifted and sat up on his knees, his thumbs still circling my tits before he dragged one hand down and traced a line across my stomach, his finger ever so lightly dipping beneath the waist of my jeans. I felt my whole body tremble and his eyes lit up as he did it again.

"I have to tell you, Bella, those poems you sent me, and the night you emailed me . . ." His voice was pure sex as his hands deftly flicked the button loose on my jeans at the same time he did the same to his own. "You know I fake that shit most nights, but that, that was too good. I came so hard I thought I was going to pass out."

I moaned, and released my inner vixen as I ran my fingers over the tight bulge of his jeans to the now open button, carefully lowering the zipper. He was commando underneath, and I swallowed hard at the beautiful length of him.

"Me too. Your voice, the way you groan when you're about to come, all hot and needy . . ." I trailed off as I let one finger trace the vein all the way to the head of his cock, now shimmering with his own excitement, and swirled my finger, letting the slickness coat my fingertip before I pulled it away and to my lips. I licked my finger, swallowing the salty taste as I looked up at him from under my eyelashes. "Show me?"

He hissed something under his breath, and unzipped and yanked my own jeans down in one quick motion. He ran two fingers over the drenched cotton between my legs before bringing his fingers back to his mouth for his own taste. "Delicious. And ladies first. You show me."

I stared at him, wide-eyed, as he stretched back out beside me and reached for my hand before he began to move it down my body. "Show me what you want, beautiful, where you like to be touched."

He intertwined our fingers when he reached the tiny elastic waist, and followed my lead as I stroked, tiny concentric circles dulled by the thin fabric until he guided me lower.

"Let me see if I remember what you wanted," he breathed. "What did you ask for first?"

He brought our hands back up, and slipped them beneath the cotton, dragging slowly towards my completely soaked pussy. He had me cradled against him now, one arm around my shoulder, his mouth pressed against my neck as he leaned up and whispered in my ear, "Ah, now I remember. Tease me."

And then he did, unmercifully, guiding our fingers down, dipping into my entrance that was desperate to be filled, grazing my clit with fleeting touches that made me whimper and writhe against him. I tugged on his hand, trying to guide him back to the spot that ached for one good stroke of his thumb, I was that close, but he just chuckled against my neck and shook his head.

"Stop teasing and fucking touch me, Edward," I hissed, turning my head to meet his eyes.

He smirked. "Oh, that was next, wasn't it? Tease me, touch me."

I'd had enough and I twisted against him so that my free hand was now able to do a little touching of its own. He whimpered as I let my fingers grip his cock, giving my own little murmur of approval at the velvet soft skin stretched over the steel of his erection. I ran my thumb over the liquid seeping from him, swirling around his head and smiling with satisfaction as he gave a little jerk and moan of his own.

Two can play at this game, Eddie.

And then apparently he remembered that because his fingers were back in action. He released my hand and jerked my panties down as well, leaving me exposed to him. He didn't waste time teasing me further, swiftly inserting one long finger inside me as I groaned and moved my other hand, still slick with my own juices, to also wrap around his cock as I jerked him in time with the rhythm of his finger inside me.

"More," I demanded.

"More what?" he panted hot against my ear. "Tell me, baby."

"I need more of you inside me, need you to fill me up," I hissed, licking against his throat.

"Oh, fuck, that's good, lick me again," he responded.

I did, my tongue tracing the bob of his throat as he swallowed hard, then biting lightly as he inserted a second finger in, curving them to find a spot deep inside me.

"Oh, fuck, there, there, Edward, fuck, more," I panted, tightening my grip around him.

"Yeah, fuck, Bella, ughh, your hands, so good," he gasped out as he slid a third finger inside me.

I saw stars as he twisted his fingers in a way that made my whole body tense and explode to the sounds of his own muffled shout, his hot mouth buried against my neck. I found my hands and stomach suddenly wet as I came down and realized that somehow I'd managed to bring him over the edge as well.

He sighed, and buried his face in my hair.

We both were panting. I could feel my heart racing and the strong beat of his own under my head as it rested against his chest as we lay there in silence.

And I waited for him to say something. What, I wasn't sure. Not that he loved me or anything crazy like that. Maybe just my name, or a simple inquiry as to how I was. Just, something, anything to stop my racing thoughts that were starting to pop me back to reality.

The reality where I was laying in bed holding the softening cock of a guy that before this week had never looked me in the eyes, with his spunk on my belly and his fingers still deep inside me. I'd sent him smutty poetry, stalked him, and practically thrown my clothes off in front of him. Hardly the message that a chick wanted more than exactly what had just happened. Fun, sexy times, no strings attached.

I mean, I couldn't exactly expect kisses and cuddling afterwards, right?

Except stupid me kind of wanted that. I squeezed my eyes shut and started trying to plan my exit strategy. My jeans were still tangled around my thighs, and I rolled away, wincing slightly as he slid his fingers out of me.

"Bella?" he asked, his voice drowsy.

I grabbed a couple of tissues from the side of the bed and tried to clean myself off, steeling myself not to cry. I'd wanted this, practically begged him for this, but I was feeling a little too exposed now.

The loud chiming of a grandfather clock I remembered seeing upstairs boomed and I focused on it, listening as the hours sounded off, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12.

Twelve? Midnight? Oh fuck, my dad was going to kill me if I wasn't there when he got home. And his shift ended at 12:30.

I bolted upright and off the bed, cursing as I stubbed my toe and tried to wiggle into my jeans while looking for where I'd thrown my sweater. Edward raised up on one elbow, his eyes half-lidded and sleepy and still too damn gorgeous for my brain to even process at the moment.

"Bella?" he asked again.

"I, uh, I have to go, my dad'll be home soon." I finally spotted my camisole and sweater at the foot of the bed, grabbing them as I toed on my shoes. I jerked the wool sweater over my head, still avoiding looking directly at him. "It was, um, this was, uh, I'll see you soon."

I glanced back one last time to see that he'd flopped back on the bed before I was even out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** After an embarrassingly long hiatus, this is finally back under way. Thanks to everyone who has continued to leave reviews, added this story to your favorites, and put it on alert.

The song quoted in this chapter is Why Can't I Fall in Love, by Ivan Neville. Neither Pump Up the Volume nor Twilight are mine, and their various elements are used for personal amusement and not profit.

**So Be It**

Chapter 3

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

I rolled over and smacked the alarm clock with a groan as I peered at it, bleary-eyed. 6:30. A.M. On a Saturday.

Flipping the covers back over my head, I groaned. Why couldn't I remember to set it to not go off on the weekend?

Oh right, because last night I were totally distracted by receiving a crazy, awesome, fucking fantastic orgasm courtesy of the one and only Edward Cullen. Alarms weren't even on the radar when I staggered in.

I pressed my pillow to my mouth to muffle my scream. Edward Cullen. Total wallflower who could barely string two words together in class confirmed as Happy Harry, dirty talking wanker extraordinaire. Further confirmed as hottest thing in bed ever. Hands down.

Not that I had tons of room for comparison, just the sophomore year boyfriend and the guy I dated the summer before moving here to Forks. But Edward had hit it out of the ballpark. That voice. Those hands. The way he took charge and got all demanding, and groaned when I licked him and . . .

Oh fuck, what was I gonna do? I kind of wanted more.

No, not even kind of. The epiphany I'd had when I'd walked into his room for the second time last night had been real. Even if he hadn't left me all ooey-gooey and totally spent, I'd still be wanting more. Wanting to hang out with him, peel back the layers, find out what was underneath, get to know the real Edward.

Except . . . what if last night was just a one time thing? What if he'd just been looking for a little relief? He had to get tired of Rosie and her sisters after a while – what if I'd just been . . . convenient? I mean, c'mon, chick barging in to the room and stripping, it didn't get much easier than that.

I played back over the night before, the shocked look on his face when I'd popped up from behind the sofa that he'd quickly smoothed away, the wariness that had radiated off him when I'd come back to him, the heat in his eyes when he'd tossed me on the bed, the blank look afterwards when I left.

What if he thought that's how I felt? That he was just a fun little romp in the sheets?

I sat up, nervously chewing my lip as I tossed the pillow to the floor. He probably did think that, after the way I'd shot out of there like a bat out of hell when I realized the time. Thankfully, I'd managed to make it home, park the truck, race upstairs, and slide under the covers just before I heard the cruiser hit the driveway, so Charlie had been none the wiser, but I had kind of left Edward in a hurry. No explanation. Not even a thank you.

Oh fuck. I should've at least said thank you. It would have been polite.

I flopped back and stared at the ceiling for answers. Maybe I should I call him? And say what exactly?

_Hey Edward, thanks for the fantabulous big O last night, it was awesome. Want to be my fuck buddy?_

_Hey Edward, despite the fact you got me mostly naked in like five minutes flat, I'm not a total slut. Except maybe for you._

_Hey Edward, want to hang out sometime? I think your body and your brain are both kind of sexy?_

_Hey Edward, would you think it was lame if I kind of wanted to . . . go out with you?_

I growled my frustration as I flopped back over, burying my face back in the pillow. That was the problem, wasn't it? I honestly didn't just want to sex him up. I liked him. Like stupid crush liked him. The dorky glasses that hid his pretty eyes. The way he kind of scrunched up his mouth when he was really concentrating on something. His ability to always get Emerson's questions right in lit class. The way he'd sweetly complimented his mom on her cookies. His ability to call total bullshit when he saw it.

I sat up and tossed the pillow aside again, suddenly resolved. The least I could do was talk to him about it. Maybe he'd be all like, whatever, or maybe he wouldn't, but a girl never knew if she never asked, right?

My phone was lying on the nightstand and I reached for it, before it hit me. I didn't even know his phone number.

Grrr.

I flopped back on the bed, clutching the phone in my hand, and then jumped as it began to vibrate against my fingers.

I whipped it to my ear, suddenly nervous, wondering if somehow he'd gotten my number. "Hello?"

"You feeling better this morning, Bella? And you are up and ready to go, aren't you? I'm going to be at your house in, like, fifteen."

Damn it. I'd totally forgotten my Saturday plans with Alice. She swore that first thing Saturday morning was the primo time to hit up the thrift shops and secondhand stores in Port Angeles, before the selections got picked over by the weekend shoppers. So about one weekend a month she dragged my ass out of bed at the crack of dawn for just that purpose.

I groaned. "Alice, I forgot to set the alarm. You sure we have to go this weekend? How about next?"

"Nu-uh. You promised – so unless you're still sick, up and at'em, girl. Besides, didn't you say that bookstore called about your order coming in? You said we had to go there to pick something up."

Right. I sighed. "Fine. Don't honk the horn when you get here. I'll be out in twenty."

I bolted out of bed and threw myself in the shower, rushing through my morning routine in double time before running downstairs and pouring a thermos of coffee for the road.

True to her word, Alice was sitting behind the wheel of her car in front of my house, idly tapping her fingers on the steering wheel as she waited. I slid into the passenger seat, and handed her a mug.

"Thanks," she hummed, as she backed down the driveway and started to navigate out of Forks. "Your headache gone from last night?"

I felt a little guilty for lying to her. Alice had been the first friend I'd made when I moved to Forks to live with my dad, and she and Jasper both had been rock solid – totally letting me hang with them and be a third wheel. But I wasn't even sure what was going on myself, let alone how to explain it to her.

_Hey, Alice, you know Edward? The quiet guy who can barely talk in class? And Harry, the internet guy who's got that great voice and talks so dirty? They're the same. Oh, and I maybe have been kind of stalking them both and then I broke in to his house last night and totally covered for his ass with his parents so they'd think he was just normal teen boy deviant not pervy online deviant and then broke in again and kind of half stripped and got him to make out with me and then, uh, fuck, then we got each other off and I ran away._

Yeah. Maybe later.

"It's fine," I replied, taking a sip of my own coffee. "How was the rest of the game?"

She started in, chattering away about the win, and the dance afterward. I listened and nodded and couldn't help but think that I wouldn't have traded my night for any of that.

-_-

Alice had made quite a haul, and I'd even found a couple of tees and a few cute jeans by the time the thrift shop started to fill up, so we headed to the bookstore for me to pick up my packages.

The library the town of Forks maintained wasn't much better than the one at the high school, and I'd discovered one of the bookstores in Port Angeles would hunt down books through their network of independent booksellers and hold them when requested. Sure, I could always order stuff off Amazon, but the Thunderbird and Whale turned up these old volumes that felt worn and loved and broken in in a way that some new Penguin paperback reprint never did.

"Hey, Bella, I'm going to go check out the new magazines, okay?" Alice nodded to the racks along the side.

"Sure," I replied. "I'm just going to look for a second before I pick up the order."

The thing I loved about the Thunderbird and Whale, besides the awesome way they'd hunt books down for me, was that it was the coziest bookstore ever. The bookshelves were high, reaching almost to the ceiling with those roller ladder things to reach the top shelves, so that every aisle felt like a maze where you could get lost in the land of books. They'd added comfy armchairs in nooks, and some weekends I'd show up and just hang out there all day.

But today there was just time for a quick browse. I headed towards the fiction side of the store, weaving my way back through the aisles when I stopped cold at the sight in front of me.

Edward Cullen.

Oh, fuck, I couldn't remember a single one of my prepared speeches. I fell back on the old standard.

"Um, hi, Edward."

He glanced up from the book he was flipping through and blinked, pushing the frame of his glasses back up his nose.

"Hi."

Okay. So . . . not verbal this morning. Was he mad about me leaving last night? Upset? Totally apathetic? His complete fixation on the spine of the book he was clutching wasn't giving anything away. We stood there awkwardly for a moment and I decided to take the plunge and break the icy waters we seemed to be floundering in.

"Listen, about last night-"

"Edward? Are you almost ready? Your dad just called and said he'd be by to pick us up-" Edward's mom came to a stop, her eyes lighting up as they darted between us. "Oh, Bella, it's so nice to see you again." She nudged Edward gently. "You didn't tell us you were going to be meeting your friend here, Edward."

With the amount of innuendo in the way she said "friend," I was surprised she didn't drive us over and check us into the local motel. I'd never seen a mom so desperate to get her kid some action.

He sighed heavily. "Mom-"

"Total coincidence, Mrs. Cullen," I cut in. "I'm actually here with my friend Alice, over there." I pointed in the directions of the rack of magazines and realized that Alice had now spotted us as well, and was watching with interest as she peeped over the cover of Vogue.

Crap. More explaining to do.

"But I'm so glad to run in to you, Edward." I turned back to him. "I realized there were a few things we still needed to finish up on our project and I didn't have your cell. Do you have mine?"

He shook his head and I offered him my phone. "Why don't you add it in for me?"

His mother beamed while we watched him quickly add his phone into my contacts. I immediately hit dial and listened as his phone began to vibrate. "There, now you have mine too."

"You're welcome to come over anytime at all, Bella," his mother added. "Oh, Edward, I see your father at the door."

I watched as they walked away, Edward glancing back at me once with an expression I couldn't quite decipher. Before I had time to process that, Alice was upon me.

"You've been holding out," she announced. "Spill."

"I have not," I insisted. "We have an project together in Emerson's class. That's all."

"So you eyefuck all your lit partners?" Alice asked.

"Alice," I hissed, dragging her behind a shelf and away from the glare of the little white-haired grandma cruising the Inspirational section. "I was not."

"If you say so," she shrugged. "You had your back to me, so I couldn't tell. But he sure as hell was eyefucking you."

"Really?" I couldn't contain a small squeal, even if I sounded totally uncool, like a twelve-year-old at a Jonas Brothers concert.

"Gotcha. I knew you were in to him," Alice replied smugly. "But, yeah, he was totally giving you the bedroom eyes when you weren't looking, at least until his mom showed up. So what's the deal? You gonna hit that? 'Bout time you unthawed, ice queen."

"I doubt it'll go anywhere, Alice. You saw him. He's kind of shy."

"So get in there, make the first move," she nudged, as we headed for the register.

First moves weren't my problem anymore. Been there, done that. But I'd thought after last night he'd maybe, I don't know, have at least said my name or something. Fuck, why did boys have to be so confusing?

-_-

I spent the rest of the day at home, catching up on housework, doing laundry, and generally puttering around. And waiting.

I'd never been the kind of girl to get hung up on a guy, waiting at home for him to call. But I had to admit, I wanted to hear him tonight, just listen to his voice.

My dad settled back in his recliner to watch a game on television after dinner, so I headed upstairs to read. But the new novel I'd picked up couldn't hold my interest. I grabbed one of the notebooks I kept lying about and flipped to a clean page, letting my thoughts flow. Lines were scribbled as I erased and struck through and rearranged until I finally had something I could live with. I chewed the end of the pencil, then pulled out my phone and sent him a text of the first line and waited.

I tossed the notebook aside and wandered around the room, checking my email, pulling up his site, then hitting refresh about a bazillion times even though it was nowhere near time for him to start.

My phone buzzed on the bed and I practically somersaulted across the room to reach it. A grin curled my lips as I looked down at the one word response.

_More._

I pulled the notebook back out and typed in the next line and waited.

_More._

We continued like that, trading lines of text for his affirmations that he wanted something from me, that at least my words enthralled him in the way his did me.

I typed the final line and then scrambled to the computer as I noticed the clock. It was time for Hard Harry, and I wanted to hear what he had to say tonight.

_"Saturday night, Forksians? How's it hanging for you? It's Hard Harry, coming to you loud and live and horny as ever. _

_Now last night, we were rudely interrupted. Oh yeah, cut off mid-rant - leaves a boy with blue balls you know. Not good to let it back up, keep it in. Clogs the pipes. So tonight - tonight we're gonna get real. We're gonna get honest. We're gonna fucking bare our souls."_

He laughed. _"Or maybe we'll just jack off together. Mutual masturbation - fun for the girls and the boys."_

I felt my cheeks heat, remembering the way his cock had felt in my hands, his fingers inside me.

_"It's up to you. You know how to reach me. Send me what's on your mind."_

He read a few emails from listeners, including one really disturbing fantasy of some dude who wanted to get it on with Ms. Emerson in the janitor's closet, and then his voice lowered, becoming deeper, smoother, the way he only seemed to be able to speak when he was hiding behind his microphone or naked with me.

_"My favorite listener has graced us tonight. That's right, the mysterious Poetry Lady has opened herself up again, and it's so beautiful inside."_

He cleared his throat and began to read.

_I run from what I crave._

_He stirs me inside._

_Makes me ache._

_Makes me slick._

_Makes me want._

_Makes me come._

_Should I reveal more?_

_The thing inside that pumps and pulses and lives is fragile. _

_Delicate._

_Would he bruise me?_

_Would I him?_

I mouthed the words as he read them, eyes closed, letting his voice wash over me. He knew what I was saying. I knew he did. I'd made the second move.

Ball's in your court, Edward. Hit it back to me. Please.

When he finished reading, it was silent for a moment, and then a track started to play, one I recognized from an old album my mother use to have. The lyrics floated out, wrapping around me as I wondered what exactly he was trying to tell me.

_I know she's out there waiting_

_So why, why can't I fall in love?_

I flushed as the song finished playing, the plaintive refrain dying away, suddenly feeling completely stupid. I should have guessed. I'd practically assaulted the guy, sent him bad poetry which all but served my heart up on a platter, and his response was a song about a guy who couldn't fall in love.

Fuck him.

I pulled out the headphones, tossing them onto the desk and accidently pulling them loose as I stalked over to my bed to flop sulkily.

His voice filled the room, but I refused to move.

"_-hard to believe you can find something real. People talk about the real world. Get ready for the real world. Wait 'til you're living in the real world. But it's all plastic and pretend from where I'm sitting. People fucking around and bullshitting their way through life. Finding a connection – something that grips you in the gut, makes you feel alive, makes you believe there's something more out there – it's scary as hell. And maybe, maybe it's the one thing that makes life worth living."_

He gave a low laugh. _ "How's that for the deep shit? Fuck, I'm even putting my dick to sleep, and you know that's hard to do. Let's call it a night, shall we? So be it, Forks. So be it."_

I lay there, staring at the ceiling, more confused than ever, when the phone beside me vibrated. I was so startled I almost fell off the bed, but I managed to grab it and saw a new text waiting.

It was from him.

_I'll try not to bruise you – will you do the same?_

My fingers flew.

_Yes._

I hit send and waited. He was quick.

_Come over tomorrow?_

I smiled, and asked one final question.

_  
When?_


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: You are all awesome to keep reading after such a long break! Thanks so much for the reviews and comments – I love reading all of them. On to the story . . .

**So Be It**

Chapter 4

I was up early and dancing around the kitchen in my pajamas as I flipped pancakes and scrambled eggs, humming along to the headphones in my ears, when a noise behind me startled me. I turned to find my dad standing in the kitchen door, mouth hanging open as he stared.

"You feeling alright?" he asked.

"Sure," I replied, shoveling the last stack on to a plate. "Breakfast's ready."

He took the plate, then touched the back of his hand to my forehead. "Running a fever, maybe?"

I rolled my eyes. "Can a girl not cook breakfast without it being a national crisis? I do this most weekends, you know."

He nodded. "Yeah, but you don't normally look so . . . happy about it." He dug into his plate and hummed his appreciation. "These are good, Bella."

"Thanks, Dad." I started to fix my own pancakes, twirling the bottle to form a happy face of syrup.

I glanced up to catch my dad staring at me again. "So, did you go somewhere last night?"

I shook my head as I took my first bite. "Nope."

His eyes narrowed. "Someone come over after I went to bed?"

I shook my head again. "Nuh-uh."

He regarded me suspiciously. "You sure about that?"

I nodded. "Yep. Just me, hanging out. Listen, I've got to go work on a project for school this evening, so I might be out kind of late."

My dad raised an eyebrow. "On a Sunday night? Where are you going? Alice's?"

"No, it's for English. Alice has Mrs. Harper," I dodged.

"So where are you going, Bella?"

I just had to have a dad who questioned people for a living. I stared at my pancakes, nudging the syrup line of the smile higher on one corner before finally admitting, "Edward Cullen's house. You know, Dr. Cullen's son?"

My father seemed to visibly relax. "Oh, well, the Cullens seem very nice. They'll be home?"

I almost started to snicker at the sudden overprotectiveness. The next thing I knew, he'd be getting out a shotgun and cleaning it in front of Edward when he came over. I felt a goofy grin creep up at the thought that Edward might be coming over. Picking me up. Taking me on a date. So high school, but, well, so right. I kind of wanted that.

"Bella?" My dad's voice shattered my daydream. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

I shook my head, aiming for angelic and innocent, two things I was not, as I forked a piece of pancake. "Edward's very smart, Dad. We should get a good grade on this project."

"Well, just remember, Bella. Boys may seem nice, but they only want-"

"Dad!" I protested. "Mom gave me the sex talk a long time ago. We do not need to rehash it."

He colored faintly. "Right. That's good. Just, you know, you can talk to me if you need to."

"Thanks, Dad."

But, no thanks. I shuddered at the thought.

-_-

I found myself back at Edward's house for the third time that week, ringing the bell, feeling both excited and more nervous than I wanted to admit to myself as I shivered in the chilly air. This wouldn't be weird, would it? I mean, we'd talked, but we hadn't really talked, not face to face, since this thing kind of blew up Friday night. And it had felt like a roller coaster since then. Would he be the same as he'd been on Wednesday, shy and sweet? Would he be all growly and sexy, like Friday night? Or something entirely different?

He opened the door before the peal had finished sounding while I was still totally lost in thought. I realized that he looked more tense that I'd expected as he pushed his glasses up nervously.

"Hey," he said shyly, stepping back and pulling the door open. "Come in. Want me to take your jacket?"

"Sure," I replied, shrugging out of it and handing it to him as I slid off my shoes and wiggled my toes in my striped socks. I glanced around. "Are your parents here?"

As though summoned, his mother popped out of the kitchen. "Bella! Edward told me you were coming over. I've got some treats for you in the kitchen."

She reached out and ruffled Edward's hair as he ducked away from her hand, muttering, "Mom," in a disgusted tone. She ignored him. "Now, now, I have to make sure my growing boy gets his brain food."

She turned and smiled at me. "Carlisle and I have dinner plans this evening, but I made some things and put them in the fridge for later, if you'd like to stay and keep Edward company tonight. We may be out late." She watched me eagerly, waiting for a response.

"Um, sure, I think we have a lot to work on," I replied, trying to keep up the pretense that Edward and I were all about the academics this evening. I don't know why I was bothering. Unlike my dad, I expected Edward's mom would lock us in his bedroom alone together without batting an eyelash if it would get her baby boy out of his shell.

"We'll be fine, Mom," Edward said, urging her towards the stairs. "Now go get ready for your date with Dad."

After watching her disappear up the stairs, he turned around, almost bumping into me since I was standing so close.

"Oh, hey," he said, stepping back a half step.

"Hey yourself," I replied, smiling up at him, trying to hold his eyes as he blinked and then looked away. Oh please, please don't be retreating from me, Edward, I mentally pleaded with him, taking the tiniest of steps forward.

Behind him in the stairwell, I noticed a shadow against the wall and froze. "Um, ready for some Shakespeare?" I asked loudly, stepping back again.

He sighed. "She's watching us, isn't she?" he whispered.

I nodded.

"Bring on the Bard," he said in a equally raised tone. "And, Mom, Dad, we're fine. You can leave any time now."

We heard a giggle from upstairs, joined by a lower voiced chuckle, followed by a squeal. Edward rolled his eyes and pointed towards the kitchen.

-_-

I sat at the kitchen table and stared across at him, willing him to look up at me. This evening was not turning out like I'd imagined.

He continued to tap at his keyboard intently, every now and then glancing up to scan a line in the volume lying next to him.

Okay, when the parental types were still running around, I got it. I was all for keeping up the facade of total innocence for them until we sorted this all out. But they had left nearly an hour ago. And we'd been in total study buddy mode ever since.

Fifty-four minutes to be exact. Fifty-four minutes when I could totally have been running my fingers through that hair and kissing those lips he kept licking in a way that made me want to launch myself across the table and do it for him.

Emerson better appreciate this project.

I couldn't take it anymore. I'd proofed my part a couple of times, double-checked the references, even checked the quotes for accuracy. I was done. And if he didn't give me some kind of sign soon, I was leaving.

"How's it coming?" I asked.

"Good."

"I think I'm finished over here."

"Great."

I was seriously starting to hate those one word responses.

"So, can I use your restroom?" I asked, standing and stretching. "I think I may have to get going soon."

His fingers paused on the keys for a second, then resumed as he nodded and kept on typing. "Right down the hall, first door on the left."

A multi-word response. Wasn't I the lucky girl? "Thanks," I muttered as I rose.

The bathroom was impeccably decorated like the rest of the house, clean whites and small green accents. I leaned over and sniffed at the flower in the vase, not surprised that it was real. I regarded myself in the mirror. What the hell had gone wrong here? Maybe I should have dressed up or something. Put a little effort in to it. Worn lipstick, or some kind of frou frou shirt that showed a bunch of cleavage.

I frowned and shook my head. Fuck that. And fuck him if this was some kind of head game he was playing with me, stringing me along last night, then blowing me off today. I mean, did he really think I came over here to study? We could have both finished that stupid project on our own if we'd had to. Maybe I'd misunderstood him last night. Maybe I should just leave.

I washed my hands, drying them on my jeans rather than mess up the decorator towels that hung so precisely next to the sink, and moved towards the bathroom door when I heard footsteps coming down the hall.

"Bella?"

He sounded as though he was right outside the door.

"Yeah?" I responded, as I reached for the knob. I felt it still under my hand.

"Wait . . . just, wait a minute please, before you go. I need to talk to you."

What the hell?

"Sure, Edward, just let me come out and we'll talk."

I felt the knob stay immobile under my hand and heard a sigh from the other side. "I can't."

I leaned my head against the smooth wood. "What do you mean, you can't?"

"I can't talk. I can't talk to you."

It was such a stupid statement, but I could hear it in his voice, the way he said it, that he really believed it.

"Edward, yes you can," I countered. "You do it every night. Just talk to me. Please."

"That's different," he replied.

"Pretend it's not," I countered.

I could hear movement on the other side, and I knew he was now leaning against the door too as he started to speak, his voice deeper and smoother, the way it was when his lips touched that microphone.

"There's this guy, right? When there's no one there – when he can't see them, it's fine. When they don't matter, when they're just people, nameless, faceless people, he can talk about anything."

He was quiet for a minute and it took everything in me to not open that door before he continued.

"But when a person's right there, someone he likes, someone he wants to talk to more than anything in the world, he opens his mouth and nothing will come out. Nothing important. Nothing that matters."

"What about someone who wants to hear him talk, so, so much?" I asked. "What if she listens to him every night, and when he talks to her, when she hears his voice, it's the best part of her day?"

"Yeah, but that voice, the one she listens to? The one she likes?" he replied. "He's not real. That voice isn't shy, or nervous, or scared the fuck out of his mind that people are going to laugh when he speaks."

I closed my eyes and touched the spot on the door where I thought he was leaning. "She noticed the guy long before she heard the voice."

"She did?" There was a sound of almost quiet disbelief.

"She did," I echoed. "She watched him, and wanted to talk to him, but, well, she's a little shy too sometimes. But then, when she found out that the guy and the voice were the same, she knew there was something about him that made him . . . right for her. All of him."

He was quiet on the other side of the door, so I pressed on. "Edward, what I said Friday night? On or off the air, it doesn't matter. What I want is to know you, all your messy bits, all your contradictions. And last night when you talked about finding a connection? I thought you wanted that with me too. Not just the Poetry Lady, who can be bold and raw and write the things I think but can't say out loud, but also the boring chick who likes to spend lunch hiding away in the library by herself with a book. I thought you wanted to know all of me."

For a minute I thought he'd walked away, it was so silent. Then he spoke. "Bella, would you open the door?"

I turned the doorknob and stepped back, staring at him as he leaned against the doorjamb. He'd taken off his glasses and his eyes swept up and down me in a way that made me feel a little woozy.

"I remember the first time I saw you," he said softly, his eyes focusing on my face. "It was my first day of school. You were in the parking lot, getting out of your truck, and you saw someone over by the courtyard. Your whole face lit up with a smile, and all I could think was, if I could only get her to smile at me like that . . ."

My heart was thumping painfully as I gave him what he'd asked for, and smiled. Not the fake half thing I did most of the time, but a real, genuine smile of everything I was feeling inside.

His own face lit up. "Just like that," he said, his finger touching my lips. "Perfect."

And then he leaned in closer and our smiles met. Friday night had been hot, but hollow. This felt like it really could be the start of something more.

I felt a laugh bubbling up inside me even as he pulled me closer, his arms now circling around my waist. I stood on my tiptoes, running my hands into his hair and pulling him closer to lick his lips like I'd been dreaming of. He moaned into my mouth and then the sweet, sappy, hearts and flowers moment kind of shifted into something a little more R rated as his fingers slid lower and dug into my ass, pulling me against him. I wanted to climb him, wrap myself around him and not let go for days.

We finally broke apart and I leaned back in his arms, breathless.

"Do you really have to go now?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No, I can stay a little longer."

His head ducked down, and he cleared his throat before he looked up and met my eyes. "So, I was thinking maybe we should . . . do what you said."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Get to know one another. Because I do, you know. Want to know you. All of you."

"I think that's an excellent plan," I replied.

"How should we start?" he asked.

I pretended to look thoughtful for a minute. We could sit down, play twenty questions, talk about our childhood – oh fuck it. We had an empty house and I wanted to take full advantage of it. Sometimes talking really was overrated.

"How about with another kiss?" I asked.

He grinned, just a little crooked and imperfect and I might have melted a little onto the floor as his lips met mine again.

The big grandfather clock in the hallway started to chime the quarter hour and I broke away, startled.

"Oh, it's almost ten."

He leaned his forehead against mine. "I thought you said you didn't have to go? Not going to Cinderella on me again, are you?"

I laughed. "Not yet. But your show . . ."

He shrugged. "Fuck it."

I shook my head. "No, I want to watch you. And I'd like to . . . assist."

He raised an eyebrow at my seductive tone as a lazy grin slid across his face. "What's the Poetry Lady gonna do to Harry tonight?"

I bit my lip. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

He grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hallway and the steps to his bedroom.

"No, I'd rather you showed me," he announced.

We hit his room, and tumbled to the bed, rolling over until I was on top of him, staring down into his gorgeous eyes.

"Like to be on top?" he asked.

I rubbed against him, feeling his erection growing beneath me. "Mmhmm. I think you like me on top, too."

I sat up slowly, reaching up to pull off my sweater, leaving me in just my bra. Which was in fact lacy and kind of sexy, thank you very much. He licked his lips and I felt a surge of warmth run through my body.

"I used to sit in the cafeteria and wonder if your breasts looked as good naked as I imagined them," he admitted, running his hands up to palm them.

"And do they?" I asked, whimpering as he found the peaks and swirled his thumbs around them.

In reply, he slipped the straps down deftly, exposing me, and sat up, taking the tip of one breast into his mouth. His tongue was fucking magic and I rocked against him, alternately petting and mangling his hair as he blissed me out, making my nips stand up and beg for more.

I whined a little when he pulled away, rolling us to the side so he could stand up. He stripped off his shirt as well and unbuttoned the button of his jeans, leaving just a zipper between me and what was making my mouth water.

I hastily untangled my bra that was hanging half off and tossed it to the side, starting to crawl across the bed towards him as he plopped down in his desk chair and booted up his computer.

"You still want to help?" he asked, slowing sliding down the zipper of his jeans.

I nodded, hypnotized as his hand brushed back up over his package, the swell beneath the fabric growing as he jacked in a mike and hit play.


	5. Chapter 5

_**So Be It**_

Chapter 5

I listened as the intro music started, rising slowly to my feet and walking over to him, letting my hips sway in time with the beat. Kneeling before him, I leaned forward and pushed my breasts together, just to add to the visual. The song stopped and he continued to stare at me until I nudged his leg.

He pulled the microphone close, cleared his throat, and started to speak.

_"Happy Harry Hard-on is coming to you tonight, loud and proud and so fucking hard I could pound nails with my dick, you beautiful bastards of Forks. I've never loved this town more than I do right now."_

He threw back his head and laughed, reaching down and touching my face. I rested against his knee, waiting to see what he would say next.

_"Fuck, I'm feeling good tonight. Who's with me? What's it going to be?"_

I stood up, leaning over him as I scanned his music collection, scrolling until I saw it. A little cliched maybe, but it fit the moment and said what I wanted him to hear. I covered the mike and whispered into his ear, "I have a dedication."

I selected the song and leaned back, unclasping the button on my jeans as he moved closer into the mike again, his eyes never leaving me. _"I have a request. From my very favorite Poetry Lady. I hope she means this, 'cause I'd love to watch."_

He cued up the song as I turned my back to him, swaying slightly as the opening guitar began to play and build.

_I love myself, I want you to love me._

Chrissy's rough voice belted out the lyrics and I turned back, letting my hands wander at will, descending down my body as I danced closer, hoping I didn't look like a total fool. I hooked my fingers in the loops on my jeans and shimmied them down, managing to step out of them without falling over and looking stupid.

His own hands were busy, his fly now open and his cock firmly gripped as he watched me with hooded eyes. Guess he must've thought the underwear I'd worn was sexy too. I gave him a wink and stripped them off as well.

_When I think about you, I touch myself._

I moved between his legs and sank to my knees, batting his hands away as he threw back his head and groaned. I licked my lips and mouthed the lyrics along with the song.

_I get down on my knees, I'd do anything for you._

Then I lowered my head and gave a long, slow lick. He was all salty and warm and solid against my tongue, and the way his thighs strained under my hands told me I was doing something right.

"Fuck, your mouth . . ." he mumbled, his breath harsh and nostrils flared as I smiled up at him and wrapped my lips more tightly around his dick. His hand swept up into my hair, not pushing so much as guiding as he continued to make all those noises I loved to hear. Only this time, they were real and I was the reason.

The song drew to a close and I leaned back, my tongue swiping the corner of my mouth as I cocked an eyebrow at his computer, now transmitting nothing but dead air and his heavy breathing.

He reached over, and grabbed the microphone. _"Poetry Lady, here's something for you. Long and loud." _ He fumbled for just a second, hit a few keys, and chords started to play while he jerked the mike loose. He reached down and pulled me to my feet.

I listened for a minute, then raised an eyebrow. "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida?"

"Longest song I've got. And it's not going to be long enough."

"Is that a promise?" I asked, as I took his hand and tugged him towards the bed.

"Impatient, are we?" he asked, reaching over and sliding a finger between my legs, then bringing the wetness back to his lips. He licked his finger, and I swallowed hard. We were going to have to pursue that further, but right now, I just wanted him inside me.

"Hell, yeah." I pushed him back, straddling him as I felt the tip of his cock brush against me. I leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "You can talk hard to me later, baby. Right now I just want you to fuck hard."

He rolled me back over and grinned, his smile just slightly off kilter as he spread my legs. "Your dirty brain makes my dirty brain want to do absolutely filthy things to you, beautiful."

He slid up on his knees and leaned across me, fumbling with the nightstand as he pulled out an unopened box of condoms, and tossed it on the bed beside us after pulling one from the pack. I took it from his fingers with a grin. Ripping the foil, I gave his cock that was now practically eye level as he balanced between my legs a quick stroke.

He was gorgeous like this, green eyes darkening, beautifully hard cock at attention and waiting. I could think of a hundred things I wanted to do to him, but I hadn't been kidding. The past few weeks had been some kind of weird, disconnected, unintentional but totally effective foreplay between us, and Friday night had barely taken the edge off. I for one was about to combust with the thought of finally, completely having him.

I slid the condom in place and leaned back on my elbows as he eased forward, pushing my legs up and wrapping them around his hips as he licked a path up my neck to my ear. He started to whisper as he slowly slid into me inch by inch. "So fucking tight. You've been waiting for me, haven't you? Just like I've been waiting for you. I've been watching you, wanting you for so long."

I couldn't help myself as I nodded against his neck and arched against him, needing him deeper now that I'd started to adjust. "Yes, uh, yes. Watched you too," I managed to pant out.

He pulled back so I could see his face and the smile there was breathtaking, before he did some kind of swivel with his hips that made me whimper and lose focus on anything else.

"Oh, beautiful, if you had any idea what I thought about when I was watching you," he whispered.

I felt my insides start to liquify as he slid out of me, then in, setting a pace that had me biting my lip to try to keep from screaming obscenities, just in case the parents Cullen decided to come home early and popped down to check on what I was doing to their baby boy. They might be slightly less cool at seeing the actual act in progress.

I wound my hands around him, letting my hands slide into the softness of his hair that curled at the back of his neck, pulling him closer. "Tell me," I moaned.

"That's my dirty girl," he grunted, as he thrust harder, one hand sliding up to find my breasts. He had some kind of direct feed into my pleasure centers, thumbing the sensitive nubs with just enough pressure to make me clench him even harder as my whole body reacted to his touch.

"You like that, don't you, having those beautiful tits played with?" He slid his hands beneath my back, rolling me over so that I was astride him. "This was one."

"One, oh, oh, one, what?" I managed as his roaming hands moved lower, his fingers sliding down my belly and exploring for a moment before he found the holy grail. I yelped and ground against him harder, needing him to keep touching the sweet spot right there that felt so, so good.

He grinned up at me and then retreated, his hands dancing back up my torso, and I realized the sadistic motherfucker was teasing me. I growled as him and raised myself up, almost letting him slip out before crashing back down.

He hissed and grabbed my hips, encouraging my rhythm.

"Oh, fuck, yeah, like that. Thought about you, you at that desk in the library, throwing me down, punishing me and riding me hard, just like this," he moaned out, and I nearly came right then and there from the image.

Then his fingers decided to do some more walking and stop playing coy as he found my clit and stroked me until my whole body felt like it had imploded with pleasure. I slumped boneless as he rolled us back over, his cock still hard and throbbing inside me.

I shivered with every thrust as he pulled me tighter, still whispering in my ear about how sweet my pussy was and how he wanted to tongue fuck me and watch me get myself off and then let him fuck me all over again. I stroked his back, feeling the muscles moving beneath his skin, murmuring little assents to his suggestions until his breath grew more ragged and he came hard inside me.

We lay there for a long moment before he rolled off and disposed of the condom, slipping his arms back around me as I sighed with the contentment of a girl who'd just broken a very long dry spell. And what a way to do it.

I yawned, feeling languid and relaxed as he kissed my forehead and let his fingers trail through my hair over and over again, the room quiet.

Wait. I sat up suddenly, causing him to frown. "Are you leaving again?" he asked.

I shook my head and pointed silently to the computer. In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida had finished up a while back.

He shook his head, walked over to the computer, all swaggering and bare-assed, and shut everything down.

I tilted my head admiringly, watching him move, my body still tingling. "No sign off tonight?"

He stalked back over and jumped back on the bed, rolling me over and into his arms so that we were nose to nose. "You want a sign off?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I like listening to you say it."

He leaned in, his voice lowering as he whispered in my ear, "Alright, how about this one. You and me? So be it."

My inner pre-adolescent self was totally writing Edward + Bella 4EVR on her notebook and my heart was beating fast enough that I was sure he could feel it against his chest as I looked into his eyes, no glasses, no barriers, and saw that we were both exactly where we wanted to be.

"Yeah," I whispered back. "So be it."

-_-

All good things have to come to an end though, and the specter of my dad pulling up in the Cullen drive in his squad car to drag me home from my study session was just barely enough motivation to pry myself out of Edward's arms and out the door to home.

I woke up the next morning achy in all the right places and hard pressed to keep the grin off my face as I munched my way through my morning corn flakes. My dad raised an eyebrow at my off-key singing as I headed out the door, earbuds firmly in place.

"Since when do you listen to Iron Butterfly, Isabella?"

After reassuring my dad that I was not, in fact, smoking the dope, as he put it, I slid into my truck and headed to school, feeling more cheerful about the place than since, well, ever. I pulled into my regular parking space and headed into the quad only to find Alice waving at me frantically from her usual perch on Jasper's lap.

Carefully picking my way through the puddles and icy spots, I stopped in front of them. "Did you hear it last night?" she demanded. "Please tell me you were listening to Harry. You were, right?"

I tried to not blush. "Um, yeah, for a little while."

"Then you heard it?"

Oh shit.

"Heard what?"

"Harry was totally getting some last night. And not from himself," Jasper helpfully explained, nodding his head. "She sounded like a wildcat, too. Feisty."

No fucking way. He unplugged the mike. I was sure I saw him unplug the mike.

"I, um, guess I didn't listen to the whole thing."

"Jasper got it. Here, listen to this part. Who do you think that is? Do you think she goes here?"

I took the earbud and turned away, trying to shield my face that I knew was burning. The sound was muffled, more indistinct than usual and partially obscured by the music, but still audible, like a bad connection. Shit. He must not have unplugged it completely.

"_That's my dirty girl."_

His voice was just like I remembered it from last night, rough and low, and I could feel myself reacting, remembering the way he'd been touching me, moving in me.

And apparently I had been enjoying myself, because the next sound that came through was a moan that was almost porn star quality, all breathy and panty and high-pitched. Did I really sound like that?

"_You like that, don't you, having those beautiful tits played with." _

Muffled noises, some more moaning and heavy breathing, some words that I couldn't quite hear, and then the music stopped just as he commanded,_ "Oh, fuck, yeah, like that. Thought about you, you at that desk in the library, throwing me down, punishing me and riding me hard, just like this." _

I jerked the earbuds out of my ears, trying to calm my breathing as I glanced around the quad, watching all the little groups clustered together, heads bent over iPods and all kinds of media players, mouths moving in speculation. The closest Forks High had ever had to a sex tape scandal, even if it was just audio.

Alice took the headphones back from me, her gaze distracted as she looked behind me.

"Who do you . . . who do you think it is?" I managed to keep my voice level.

"No one can figure it out because the sound's pretty bad, although Eric Yorkie swears he's going to scrub the audio or some kind of CSI thing to isolate a voice sample." She rolled her eyes, then glanced behind me again. "Guess now we have two mysteries. Who's Harry, and who's his girlfriend?"

"Sounds like she's a naughty librarian to me," Jasper chimed in as he looped his arms around Alice. "Hey, we should play that one sometime, babe."

Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder and almost jumped. I turned my head and there behind me stood Edward, a tentative smile on his face.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey, Bella," he replied. "You got home alright?" His hand lifted from my shoulder, his fingers just barely brushing against my neck as he pulled away. I shivered, swaying a little closer to him. That little touch felt more intimate than if he'd leaned me back and laid one on me for the whole school to watch.

Alice's eyes widened as she glanced from Edward to me to the device in her hand, and I saw it the instant her brain snapped the pieces in place. She gasped, then covered her mouth.

"You," she announced, gesturing to me. "And you," she pointed to Edward.

"What about us?" I asked, pleading with her with my eyes to not say a word.

She handed the iPod back to Jasper and gave me a pointed look. "You make a very cute couple." She mouthed the word, "Later," at me, and I nodded, watching as they turned away and started their morning make out routine.

Edward leaned down and whispered in my ear, "So, I hear the library's pretty deserted this time of day."

My lips curled in a smile as I took his hand and led the way.

_The End_

A/N: As always, neither Twilight nor Pump Up the Volume and their respective characters belong to me, and they are used for amusement only. Songs and song lyrics used in this chapter are I Touch Myself by the Divinyls and In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida by Iron Butterfly.

Things I learned while writing this fic - I am not the only chickadee with love for Pump Up the Volume and the foxy Mr. Christian Slater. He'll never top J.D. in Heathers for me (I'd play strip croquet with J.D. any day of the week, homicidal lunatic or not), but Mark/Harry in PUtV runs a close second.

But most of all I've learned that you are all exceptionally awesome with the reviewing, and the commenting, and the favoriting, and so forth. And also apparently twittering (though I confess I'm still trying to figure the twittering out – I'm a little twitter deficient). Thank you, each and every one of you, who have taken the time to communicate how you felt about this fic. I truly appreciate it.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed the story. Next up is a fic I wrote for this winter's Twilight Gift Exchange – it'll start posting on Sunday.


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